New Year, new me. Er, better me? Let’s go with different me. I’m back to my roots. My redhead ones that is. I started the process of going from black to red back before Thanksgiving.  Usually when I end up in a bad place emotionally,  I go all self-destructo girl. Generally my hair pays the price.

This time, I put myself out there, as soon as I could. I wasn’t ready to actually go out, but I talked to people (guys) online. Messaging back & forth. All completely anonymous, unless I chose to change that.

I’ve met a few of the guys I’ve been talking to. But I have some rules.

-Don’t like meeting me in public? Too bad, I’m horny not stupid.

-Start the conversation with a picture of your “pride & joy”? Buh-bye

-Expect to get my body or my submission just because your profile says Daddy/Dom/Master? Yeah, NO!

I’m not a 20-something with no self esteem who jumped into relationships that were guaranteed to damage me body & soul. 

40-something me knows that I might be difficult, I might have demons, but I’m damn well worth the wait.

And when I get down on myself, I’ve got the one, the only Harley Quinn to remind me who I am.

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